


Grab A Boy

by whatstheproblembaby



Category: Glee
Genre: Cheerio!Klaine, Fluff, M/M, older!blaine, younger!kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 13:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3122798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junior Cheerio captain Blaine falls damn hard for cute freshman Cheerio Kurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grab A Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This was just an excuse to write Blaine finding Kurt damn hot, y'all.

“I think my eyes are about to start bleeding from how incredibly awful that was. In the future, you're not even allowed to look in my general direction or else I _will_ end up vomiting all over your outdated haircut. Next!”

Blaine silently watched the freshman girl with the truly unfortunate shag leave in tears after Coach's critique, praying that whoever was next had at least a shred of rhythm. Usually Cheerios tryouts weren't quite this painful, but apparently this year's crop of recruits were all born with two left feet and no lung power. Getting to Nationals this year was looking like more work than he'd originally thought.

“Oh dear God, it's like a Precious Moments figurine come to life,” Coach muttered as the next kid walked in, prompting Blaine to look up from his notepad.

His pencil slipped from his fingers.

The boy was _adorable,_ slim and pale skinned with a confident smile but shy eyes. He waited patiently for Coach to be ready, not letting her grumpy aura infect his stick-straight posture. He was probably braver than any other hopeful they'd seen today – even Blaine had subtly scooted his chair away from her, and Santana and Quinn were huddled together like refugees at the far end of the table on Coach's opposite side.

“And you are?” Coach asked.

“Kurt Hummel.”

“Great. Whatever. I'll be starting the music as soon as I stop talking. You'll have thirty-two counts to show that you _can_ actually do the routine we taught you and that you're not a total buffoon. You make it that far, and you'll be on the squad on a probationary basis. Make it a month, and you're in for good. Got it?”

Kurt nodded, and Coach started the music. He launched into the routine like he'd known it for years, popping his hips and spinning in perfect time with the song's fast beat.

Blaine had to shift awkwardly in his seat as Kurt danced, hoping his arousal wasn't too overt. Santana would never let him live it down otherwise, and he didn't want to scare Kurt off before he even got a chance to get to know him. 

“That wasn't terrible. Congrats, fresh meat, you're on the squad,” Coach said when Kurt finished. Blaine thought he might even have heard a note of genuine approval in her voice. “Practice is at three pm tomorrow, and don't you dare be late. Next!”

“I won't, Coach.” Kurt flashed them all one last grin before hustling out of the gym, and Blaine could swear he saw dimples crop up in his cheeks.

 _I am so screwed,_ he thought as the next kid walked in.

_____________________

As Kurt's month on probation passed, Blaine's crush only grew stronger. They'd ended up getting lockers near each other (through no manipulation of Blaine's own), so of course they'd started making small talk as they changed before and after practice. Stilted chatter about the weather and Kurt's classes turned into lively banter about fashion magazines and musicals after Kurt saw the copy of _Vogue_ in Blaine's locker and Blaine heard Kurt humming a tune from _Sweeney Todd_ under his breath after Coach had made some particularly vicious remarks one day.

Snatching moments of conversation quickly turned into exhanging numbers and going out for coffee after practice, and soon Blaine and Kurt were practically inseparable best friends.

Well, Blaine was Kurt's best friend. Blaine himself wanted a little more out of the deal.

“But you're not going to push him, Anderson,” he told himself as he showered before school one day. “He's your best friend and he's finally enjoying school after those d-bags Karofsky and Azimio bullied him all throughout middle school. Don't be creepy.”

Of course, that day would turn out to be the day when Coach tells Blaine to go help Kurt with his stretches.

“Anderson! Go help Hummel with his scorpion. If he can hold it by next week, I want to incorporate it into a stunt,” Coach barked.

Blaine choked a little before feeling his mouth go dry. “Uh-”

“Now! Or else you're running laps before practice ends,” she said, and Blaine instantly complied.

He tried to calm himself on the walk over to Kurt's corner of the gym, but seeing Kurt's t-shirt ride up as he stretched just flustered Blaine all over again.

“Oh my God, I'm so close to having this down!” Kurt said excitedly. “Can you just brace me and maybe push my leg up a little more if I ask for it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, anything,” Blaine said, mind still too foggy to process much outside of _my arms are going to be around Kurt soon oh my God._

“Awesome!” Kurt pushed himself up from his stretch and got into position, kicking his left leg up behind him and grabbing it with both of his hands. “Ready when you are!”

Blaine came up beside Kurt and wrapped his right arm around Kurt's slender waist, cupping Kurt's left hip in his hand. “I've got you.”

Kurt started pulling his leg up and bending himself backward slightly. Blaine could feel the muscles in Kurt's torso shifting under his shirt and cradled him a little tighter, noting that it felt _right_ to have Kurt in his arms like this.

(Well, maybe not _exactly_ like that, but close enough. Blaine wasn't gonna get picky at a time like this.)

“You're so close, Kurt!” he encouraged as Kurt's foot inched closer to his head. “Just like two more inches, c'mon!”

“Pull my foot closer, Blaine,” Kurt said, voice a little strained.

Blaine pushed on Kurt's knee until his foot connected with the back of his head. “Oh my God!”

“I did it! I did it!” Kurt said, gasping slightly. “Holy crap, my leg muscles are on _fire,_ but I did it!”

“I'm gonna step back now and see if you can hold it, okay?” Blaine asked, reluctantly pulling his arm away. He watched as Kurt wobbled almost imperceptibly before tightening his core and holding the pose.

And then Kurt's base leg started to give way.

Blaine rushed forward to catch Kurt before he could land on the hard gym floor, grabbing him tightly and heaving him back to standing.

“Looks like I need to do more leg workouts,” Kurt said, smiling bashfully. “Thanks for catching me, Blaine.”

“Hey, I'd be a shitty spotter _and_ a shitty friend if I let you collapse like that,” Blaine said, returning Kurt's smile. “Your scorpion looked great, though! It'll for sure be in one of Coach's new routines.”

“But you won't be if you don't get your ass over here to learn it!” Coach yelled, bursting their happy bubble. “C'mon, Anderson, you should've been done over there ten minutes ago!”

“But you were only over here for about five,” Kurt whispered as they hustled over.

“Coach doesn't care, you know that by now,” Blaine whispered back.

_______________________

Sure enough, Kurt's scorpion was about to be in Friday's halftime routine for the basketball game. Unfortunately, Blaine wasn't.

 _Oh my God, this flu sucks,_ he texted Kurt on Wednesday as he shivered in bed.

**I'm so sorry you're still sick :(**

_I'm getting better-ish. I just wanted to see the crowd's reaction to your scorpion._

**You still might. I convinced Coach to push that routine back for a week in favor of something else. It's gonna be epic.**

_Ooooh, do I get any hints? Also, how did you pull that off?_

**I have my ways. And no hints! You'll just have to get better so you can come see it yourself.**

Blaine kept begging, but Kurt refused to tell him what he had planned for Friday. When the day finally came, Blaine bundled himself in a McKinley hoodie and his Cheerio pants, figuring Coach might actually kill him if he was out in public in non-uniform attire. He wasn't well enough to cheer, of course, but he could at least sit on the sidelines and watch.

“You're welcome, Anderson,” Coach said as he plopped onto the bench that evening.

“What?”

“You'll see. Now sit down and don't talk. You're not infecting anyone else on this squad.”

Blaine sat there and shut up, clapping along as the squad did their sideline cheers during the first half. He got more and more excited as halftime neared, wondering what Kurt could have planned.

He didn't expect Kurt to strut out from the locker rooms with his friend Mercedes as the pep band played. He didn't expect him to sing. And he sure as hell didn't expect Kurt to change his hairstyle into a gravity defying upsweep that made his face look more angular and his eyes look bigger.

Blaine kept his eyes locked on Kurt as he and Mercedes _owned_ “Four Minutes,” both vocally and with their dance moves. Kurt was electric, shaking his hips and nearly growling some of his notes, and he stared directly at Blaine whenever his choreography placed them in line with each other. Blaine could feel himself getting aroused by Kurt yet again.

When Kurt and Mercedes hit their ending pose, Blaine pushed himself off the bench, clapping as hard as he could. He reached out and snagged Kurt's arm as Kurt made his way back to the sidelines, leading him out the side doors into a deserted hallway.

“Was I supposed to get some kind of hint from that?” Blaine asked, realizing he might have sounded a little harsh but too close to the end of his rope to care very much.

“Did you want to get some kind of hint from that?” Kurt sounded flirty, but the way he shifted on his feet and wouldn't look Blaine in the eye belied his nervousness.

Blaine leaned in and kissed Kurt gently, feeling him start a little before tentatively kissing back. “I've been pining over you since tryouts, Kurt, of course I wanted to get a hint from that.”

“You – you have? But you didn't say anything,” Kurt said, blushing.

“You told me how awful middle school was for you, and I didn't wanna pressure you into anything after that,” Blaine said. “I figured I'd either ride out these feelings or hope you came to me first.”

“Thank God one of us is assertive, then,” Kurt teased. “Of course, I did have a little help from Coach.”

“Wait, what?”

“When I told her why I wanted to switch routines, she was fully on board. Apparently we're the only couple here that wouldn't make her want to gouge her eyes out with spoons if she saw us holding hands, and, uh, she thinks you'll be even more flexible if you, um, get laid.” Kurt blushed bright red at the words 'get laid,' prompting Blaine to lean in and kiss him again.

“That's...sweet, I guess? Weird, definitely, but sweet in Coach's own way. And what about you? Would you be more flexible if you got laid?” Blaine teased, loving how easy it was to make Kurt blush.

“You've already seen how flexible I am, Blaine,” Kurt said, a challenging look in his eye. “Or have you forgotten my scorpion?”

“Oh believe me, I haven't forgotten,” Blaine said, smirking at Kurt. “Although for what I'm thinking about doing right now, you really don't need to be all that limber.”

“And what might that be?”

Blaine pushed Kurt against the concrete wall and hoisted one of Kurt's legs around his waist, making Kurt squeak. “This,” he whispered before pressing a hard, passionate kiss to Kurt's lips. Kurt responded in kind, pressing up and wrapping his other leg around Blaine's waist for better leverage. They made out for what felt like hours until the gym door banged open and Santana started yelling.

“Hey, twinkies, Coach told me to tell you that you can make out on your own time, because right now she needs her star Cheerio back and for him to not get infected by her captain. You have thirty seconds to get back in here before she digitally adds your faces to a porno and releases it as your sex tape.”

Blaine instantly dropped Kurt's legs, waiting for Kurt to regain his footing before taking his hand and running them back into the gym. They could always make out a little more once they won the game, after all.


End file.
